47 | we did not give up on love today

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xxxxvii.

we did not give up on love today

(Orpheus by Sara Bareilles)

__________

December 25, 1979

Hermione heavily sat down at the top of the toilet lid, a disbelieving laugh flitting out of her lips. Her hold on the pregnancy test was limp, and try as she might, she couldn't blink away the double line projected on the stick. Even when her vision swam with tears, the lines were still clear as day, and Hermione didn't know what to do.

Merlin and Morgana, she was completely and utterly fucked.

A teardrop landed on the pregnancy test and she took a soft sniff, haphazardly wiping her tears away with her free hand.

She couldn't believe this turn of events. Here was she, painfully accepting that Harry Potter might not exist in this world, with her only consolation being that he would never go through the same horrible experiences he had to endure her previous lifetime.

And then, fate decided to pull off the grandest trick in the whole universe and terrifyingly, irrevocably, found a way for Harry to still be born in this new future she had singlehandedly created. Even though the babe inside her uterus was but a bloody speck with constantly dividing cells, Hermione already had this inkling that this would be Harry. Granted, a different Harry Potter but still Harry Potter.

She emitted another strange sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob, and immediately banished the proof away with just a wave of her wand. A part of her was ecstatic that in the end, Harry Potter would still find a way to be born into this world. But another part, the biggest part, was terrified that she'd still bring him into chaos, with Voldemort prowling the streets, reigning terror over the Wizarding World.

Hermione mentally berated herself for forgetting to cast a simple contraceptive charm when she'd lain with James. She'd been too distracted by his eyes and his touch, riding the throes of pleasure that made everything around them simply not matter.

Now, now the product of their carelessness was only a few months away and Hermione had already conjured worst case scenarios that did not help her frazzled nerves. The prophecy, the scar, the deaths... all of them hung heavily on Hermione's shoulders and the initial surprise, and admitted reluctant elation, upon discovering she was pregnant disappeared. All that was left was genuine dread of what tomorrow may bring.

"Hermione?" Peter's voice called out from the other side. "What's taking you so long? Dinner's ready!"

She slowly stood up from the toilet seat and removed any signs of crying from her face with a spell. Hermione grimaced upon seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and forced a small smile she hoped would be passable.

"Sorry," she said, yanking the door open. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at her, but Hermione had already ducked her head and strode towards the kitchen.

The overwhelming smell of their Christmas dinner made her nauseous. She knew that something was wrong with her the moment she gagged at just the smell of fried chicken and had merely brushed it away as feeling under the weather. When bloody toffees made her vomit with their sickening sweet smell, Hermione firmly believed this was something else entirely. When her menstruation was a week late, Hermione had pieced everything together. She knew she could just cast a simple spell to confirm her suspicion, but she was too nervous she might botch it up and end up hurting herself or the baby – if ever there even was one. Which was why she'd ventured to the nearest shop and bought a fail-safe, Muggle pregnancy test kit instead.

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